Review: Skilled performance, too much rhetoric

Those who expected the "total redneck experience" from the Charlie Daniels Band at the Naples Philharmonic on Friday evening walked away only partially satisfied.

While there was plenty of such rhetoric from Daniels — including gay-bashing, talk of Jesus, the flag and lyrics like "hanging violent criminals from a tall tree with a short rope" — the actual music was anything but 100 percent country.

The 71-year-old singer/songwriter/fiddler/guitarist and his five sidemen offered an eclectic, versatile and, sometimes, technically astounding blend of Latin, bluegrass and Southern rock and fusion, with jazz and swing overtones. It would have made jazz legend Chick Corea proud. Much of Daniels' music is not easy to play, but these artists made it look easy. So did Charlie Daniels.

Daniels is a veteran road rat, having his first recording contract in 1959 at age of 23. In 1964, he co-wrote the B-side of an Elvis hit "It Hurts Me." Before he made it as a bandleader on his own with 1973's "Honey on the Rock," he wrote and produced for a disparate group of artists, including the Youngbloods, Al Kooper, Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan. Daniels' real breakthrough happened in 1979 with "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," a Grammy award-winning platinum single. He continues to log over 250 days on the road annually.

I would have preferred the music without the politics. As it was, the package was schizophrenic. For me, it was difficult to reconcile expertly performed, often sophisticated music with an overtly political message rendered at the wrong time and the wrong place and far too often.

Despite the talk, those in attendance generally responded enthusiastically to the band's sheer energy. Instrumentally, each tune was superb. Vocally, Daniels had range and power, but the problem was — save for Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" and an emotional version of "How Great Thou Art" — it was impossible to decipher the lyrics. His speaking voice was clear, as were the singing voices of organist Taz DeGregorio on "Sweet Angelina" and guitarist Bruce Ray Brown's "Perfect Combination for Catastrophe," but the words Daniels sung just couldn't be understood. The ultra-loud volume of the band didn't help.

Featuring Daniels' vocals and impressive fiddle technique, the first two unnamed numbers were reminiscent of the legendary western swing of Bob Willis and the Texas Playboys, with modern touches. The leader welcomed the audience before the third tune, and spoke of his love for Mexican music.

It was on "El Toreador" that the band really surprised. This Latin-flavored opus, in 6/8 time with flamenco flourishes and Daniels on guitar, could have been performed by a jazz/fusion band. Although it made for exciting listening, I suspect that those who thought they were in for a night of down home sounds by some good ol' boys were startled by the complexity of a composition like this. To Daniels' credit, he made it obvious early on that he is not tied down to any single genre. To his musicians' credit, everything was expertly played.

After Daniels' more traditional "Saddle Tramp," the group segued, without stopping, into a long, up-tempo, Southern rock romper, again with modern fusion overtones, that featured a nifty, Hammond, B-3 organ solo.

Before launching into "Simple Man," the tune with the lyrics about hanging criminals, Daniels spoke of violent crime in America, and suggested that Florida judges hang child molesters. Appropriate or not, this audience ate it up. This was followed by his patriotic tribute to veterans, "In America."

Then it was into another long, Latin fusion-styled instrumental, which Daniels said will be "on my new album to come out in 15 or 20 years." This very intricate minor blues number served mainly as a drum spotlight for Pat McDonald, an astounding technician and showman who kept a fast roll going with his foot pedals while chug-a-lugging a beer.

After he played "The Star Spangled Banner" on fiddle and a fast, romping blues, it was time for the closer, which was Daniels' big hit, "The Devil Went Down to Georgia."

The reaction to the show was enthusiastic (although I heard some audience members comment about the lack of "good time country fiddlin' "), but there was no encore requested or offered, something of a rarity at any Phil event. Perhaps concert-goers were confused. Or maybe they just had enough.